Pretend it's a Fairytale
by Aradatm
Summary: A/U: What if, one day, you wake up to discover that your whole life had been false, that your comrades aren't actually your friends and a world you thought impossible was really reality. Gideon with team.


This is a new, edited version of the previous. I've decided to give this another try along with fanfiction. I've been sick for a while and while I'm still sick, I've returned to typing up stories. I really liked this idea that I couldn't just abandon it. Instead I've made a few changes. The main character will still be Gideon. The team will still be in it. I will get busy on the next chapter immediately/soon.

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><p><strong>Pretend it's a Fairytale<strong>

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**Summary:**

A/U: What if, one day, you wake up to discover that your whole life had been false, that your comrades aren't actually your friends and a world you thought impossible was really reality. Gideon with team.

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**Chapter One**

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**JASON GIDEON **jerked awake and snapped his eyes open, staring up into a sea of darkness. His hands touched the soft fabrics of the bedspread lying atop him. He could hear his heart pounding rapidly in his ribcage and his breaths fell out shallow and erratic from his lips. Jason tried to sit up on the mattress. Almost immediately, as he surveyed the room, the thought came, _this isn't right – this isn't my house or cabin._

Being a retired profiler caused many scenarios to pop up; almost all of which were not to his liking. Licking his dry lips, Jason barely made out an unfamiliar dresser to his right. To his left was a small plain table that held up a lamp and nothing more. It mirrored almost exactly to his cabin's bedroom setup – if it wasn't for the fact that the bed was slightly different, that small nagging voice in the back of his head was telling him otherwise, he would have easily been fooled.

A sudden cold chill made him shiver. Peering over to his left, past the nightstand, Jason noticed there was a door half-way open. He wasn't sure what that meant just yet. Had he been kidnapped by a delusional psycho? Was that meant as an exit or was it a trap? Jason didn't have to wait long to find out. In a moment he heard echoing footsteps. _Clack, clack, clack_. Then the door was pushed open all the way and someone was walking inside and Jason could feel himself tensing.

Despite being a legendary profiler, Jason wasn't used to these kinds of situations – the ones where he had no control over, where the other profilers that usually had his back were nowhere in sight. Jason squinted in the darkness. He wished he could see if the person was a male or female but the only thing he could make out was the height of the person. They were decent, maybe close to six foot but not quite there yet. The figure was also slim. Jason was reminded of his young genius student he used to mentor before everything went bad – horribly, horribly bad.

But that felt like a millennia ago. Silence filled the room like something awful. Jason felt as if it was trying to squeeze his heart until it broke into millions of jumbled pieces. Then he heard it again, the _clack, clack, clack _of those tall boots he only ever saw Sarah wear when it snowed and they had to walk out in all that mush to reach the car. He could tell it was the same ones because he'd remember those sounds anywhere when she sometimes had to walk in them on the carpeted, kitchen floor.

_Carpet_, Jason realized quietly. He wondered why it took him so long to figure out the flooring of the room. He should have known it by now because it really did mirror his cabin bedroom which he had spread with carpeting ages ago just to make it more homely.

The figure moved over to the lamp near Jason. It had somehow managed to shut the door so quietly that it went unnoticed to Jason until now. Jason contemplated on something to say to the figure, to open up some sort of conversation. The silence in the room felt like a noose wrapped around tightly to his neck. But his mind couldn't seem to come up with anything and he had a feeling, even if he had something to say to the "unsub", he wouldn't be able to get his lips to form the words.

Instead Jason watched as the figure turned on the lamp. He squeezed his eyes shut as bright yellow rays of light engulfed the entire room like something out of a sci-fi movie he once watched with Sarah. _There was a bright light like this before the aliens kidnapped the humans_ came the cynical thought before he could stop it.

It took Jason a good few seconds for him to open his eyes again and when he did, he wondered if he had managed to somehow fall asleep during the process of adjusting to the light. His back felt stiff against the headboard and his hands clenched against the bedspread. He tried not to stare at the figure looking down at him, concern radiating from achingly familiar brown eyes.

Spencer knew the moment he walked into the room, if the patient were to awake, he'd be bombarded with questions. He didn't mind. He actually looked forward to that the most when he signed on for it. He glanced down at the clipboard he was handed not too long ago. Room 001; the first ever human being to be tested with the pill. Dear God, he hoped it worked and didn't include some sort of horrible side effect.

Going over his chart, he knew the man was in his early sixties; a retired college professor that married to a woman named Sarah Jacobs. He passed the psyche evaluation test with flying colors and a fitness test with equal ease. The reason he signed on was for personal reasons concerning his family. Spencer knew it was the wife's decision in the first place but Gideon must have wanted to try it just the same if he allowed for her to sign him up.

No one just let their wife decide to hand them over to the government to be an experimental guinea pig, no matter how noble their intentions seemed.

Spencer found the room easily enough in the back of the "hospital" under the codename of "SRC". He slid his card into the silver machine plastered to the wall. It was an old form of technology that worked well so the government decided to keep it. He then pressed his thumb into the small dip and the machine beeped once and the light turned green. The heavy metal doors slid open and Spencer found himself in a narrow hallway.

Spencer made a right turn. He knew the way to Gideon's room by heart, having to monitor the man almost two weeks by now. He saw the familiar portrait of the founder of the governmental research facility. The lines underneath the glass were jagged and sloppy and although Spencer could see it was water colored, the colors the artist chose set the atmosphere dark, almost menacing as the image seemed to glare out at Spencer as he walked past.

He counted the steps he walked and when he got to twenty-two under his breath, he was met with a small set of stairs. He knew there were fifteen all together. Spencer climbed up to the top and smiled briefly when he saw the red colored door in front of him. He swiftly pushed it open and turned in immediately to the first room on his right. Gideon's name was marked on the nameplate next to the door in a solid, bolded black.

Darkness swirled around him as he entered as quietly as he could. In all honesty, Spencer wasn't quite too sure when the patient would wake up. It might be today or tomorrow or sometime in the next couple weeks. It might even be never. But Spencer had a feeling, a small feeling that it was today. He felt anxious as he tried to peer into the room.

His new boots made that annoying clacking sound as they hit the floor. He felt the strange, undeniable sensation of someone watching him as he moved over to the nightstand that stood next to Gideon's bed. Spencer wished he could see well in the dark, he was almost sure that Gideon was awake and staring at him.

He turned on the light after a moment. When the room lit up, Spencer saw that the older man was sitting up against the bed, his hands clenching against the sheets on the bed, his eyes shut so tightly together that wrinkles appeared on his forehead. His lip was turned down in an ugly frown. Spencer watched as Gideon opened his eyes.

Spencer tried not to take a step back when Gideon immediately zeroed in on him. His eyes went wide in surprise, horror, disbelief and if Spencer had been in a better mood he was sure he could name a few others. The one that made Spencer freeze; rooted to the spot, was the undeniable _recognition_ in those chilling, brown depths.

"Spencer?" The man said softly, so softly Spencer almost missed it.

The thin framed man immediately snapped out of his stupor. It didn't go unnoticed to the patient whom sat frigid against the headboard, eyes that still seemed too big for the man's face. Spencer quickly looked down at the clipboard in his hand before looking back toward Gideon. Concern flashed on his face for a moment as he walked over.

"You're awake now, I see. I have a few quick questions for you – just standard procedure, so don't worry. Let's start with your head. Any pain there? Tell me, even if it's just a little. No? Okay, good." Spencer breathed a small sigh of relief. In truth, he wasn't sure if this was standard procedure. Gideon was the first ever. But this…it just popped into his head and felt right, like common sense. "What about the rest of you? Anywhere at all that hurts?"

Gideon shook his head. He was looking around the room now, in a kind of lost, haunted curiosity that Spencer wasn't all too sure where the man had acquired from, though he had a small speculation. The man finally stopped and faced Spencer again. "Where are we, Spencer?"

There was a calculated pause as Spencer watched the man's lax face calmly. He was told there'd be side-effects to the drug. He quickly put two and two together. "How much do you remember, Jason?" he asked, wondering if saying the man's first name was a good idea or a bad one.

Gideon didn't seem to notice it. Spencer knew from his furrowed brows that Gideon was thrown off by the question. "What?"

Spencer pulled up the lone chair resting in the corner nearest the entrance. He sat across from Gideon. "How much do you remember?" he repeated patiently.

Gideon wasn't sure what to make of the question. He wasn't sure what Spencer was trying to play at. He hasn't seen Spencer since that last case they had together at the college campus. He wished he said a proper "good-bye" to him, to the rest of the BAU.

He looked down at his hands grasping the covers in an iron-grip. Spencer was asking him how much he remembered. Did something terrible happen to him recently? He felt a light nudge on his shoulder and he knew Spencer was trying to comfort him. But from what? Why did he need comfort? Only one thing came to mind and it wasn't anything pleasant.

"Did I lose my memory, Spencer?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Spencer looked at him with an unreadable expression and Gideon wondered when Spencer became good at hiding his emotions that used to be openly displayed for the world to see. He remembered most things about his life but with memory loss, you may never know. Like yesterday, what did he eat for dinner? Was it stir-fry again or pasta? Maybe he went out to eat instead. He couldn't really remember – everything seemed like a blur now that he was thinking about it.

"Yes and no," Spencer said at last.

Gideon wondered what that answer meant and if he liked that he was half-right. This new Spencer that unnerved Gideon seemed to read his thoughts. "Would you believe me if I told you that your memories right now – at this moment – are nothing but lies, Jason?"


End file.
